


Peter Parker: Survivor

by tompolland



Series: The Trials of Peter Parker [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Background Relationships, Dark Peter Parker, Depression, Emotions, F/M, Gen, Guilt, Hurt Peter Parker, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Injury, Multi, Peter Has Issues, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Recovery, Slow Updates, Tony Stark Has A Heart, YOU KNOW IT, but it will get better, dark!Peter, friends are the best, more heavy stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 13:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16620170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tompolland/pseuds/tompolland
Summary: PART TWO OF THE TRIALS OF PETER PARKERThe last time we saw Peter, he was lying broken in an alleyway. We don’t know what happened next. But there’s one thing that’s for sure: Peter Parker is one helluva survivor.(hopefully) brief hiatus





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would say it’s about time, wouldn’t you? I’m so sorry it’s taken soooo long to start this chapter of the Trials of Peter Parker. But I needed to clear my mind, and now that I’ve got some new ideas... there’s no stopping me over the next few days I have off. Updates will most likely be weekly or biweekly, so pretty slow. I hope it’s worth it!! I’ve also been looking for someone to beta this, since I’m a fast typer and often make stupid mistakes. 
> 
> But please, enjoy this first chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this first chapter is kinda short :P it doesn’t really add to the plot, but it’s a start to this story. <3 -TH

 Michelle Jones didn’t like staying out late in New York. Sure, no one messed with her once they saw the studded boots she had gotten as a birthday present, but the feeling of the city made her uneasy. Nevertheless, she found herself walking out late in the city after yet another sleepless night. Her shoes clunked against the wet sidewalk, and above her head, her umbrella prevented any rain from hitting her skin. The street lights lit up her path through area. And though Michelle didn’t enjoy the city at night, she loved the rain at night. She loved the cold air on her cheeks and the water splattering around her. 

 She didn’t have a specific destination in mind. Anything to get away from what had been happening. Sure, her friends had been supporting not only her but each other... it’s just that she needed to be alone with her thoughts. Michelle didn’t think of herself as an emotional person until the events concerning Peter Parker. And she wasn’t normally emotional, but Ned was dead. May was dead. Peter... God knew where Peter was. He had gone rogue according to Tony, someone- or something- named Venom had guided him to wherever the hell he was now. Michelle knew she should be angry at Venom, whatever it was, but she was angry with Peter. For ditching his friends, for not talking to them when he obviously needed to, for going down this path because he insisted that he was fine... bullshit. He obviously wasn’t. 

 As these thoughts flowed freely through Michelle’s mind, her pace quickened and she stormed down the road towards her apartment building. If anyone had been standing in her way, they surely would have cowered away. 

 Further in the city, two other of Peter’s friends- if you could call them that now- sat, one inside their apartment building and the other in his father’s lounge area. The apartment building seemed dull and lifeless with two souls less. The lounge was dim from the recent lack of use, dust collecting on every possible surface until the maid kicked the boy out and brushed it all away. In another part of the city, two now childless parents continued to grieve their lost son. High above all of them, locked away in his tower, a multi-billionaire genius stared out a new glass window and wondered where he went wrong in this. 

 Somehow, Michelle knew all of this was happening. She knew all the damage Peter had caused, and yet... she found a sliver of pity for him. Who knows what else was going on in his life when his Aunt May died. Who knows what’s happening this moment. One can only hope all will be revealed shortly. 

 But that’s never the case, is it? 

 MJ knew what all those people were doing. But she had no idea what the hell happened to Peter- Spider-Man, whatever the hell he had become. There had been minimal sightings of the spandex-clad hero throughout the whole of New York. And he definitely hadn’t gone out of state if there were still sightings, allbeit few. This Venom character was certainly rare- the meager reports were from homeless people living in the streets and alleys. 

 It appeared that Michelle had lost track of time, since through the heavy rain clouds in the sky, the sun began to cast an eerie glow on the city. Another sleepless night. She sighed and turned on her heel, walking back the way she came with her umbrella leaning against her shoulder. The rain slowed down to a light patter until she was in the safety of her own apartment, in her grungey bedroom with band posters and protest signs decorating the walls. At that moment, the storm began. Tossing everything around in the streets, rain pounding at every surface and creating a deafening yet peaceful noise. Strange how something so dangerous, loud, and gloomy could create a sense of calm. 

 Michelle glanced out the window at the mass of grey. Her lower lip slipped into it’s natural pout and her eyes slipped under a tired gaze. She grabbed whatever book happened to be in her reach and took a sip of the day-old stale coffee on her nightstand. 

 This had become her ritual, even when it wasn’t raining. If it wasn’t raining, the sun was too bright and she shut her blinds. Her mother often scolded her for not letting any sunlight into her room, but MJ always shut the curtains when she left. Today’s book was  _The Book Thief._ The other day she had sketched in her sketchbook. The day before that, taken notes for her history test. 

 Was this her life now? Studying the weather and passing school and just dragging through her daily routine, lifeless uninterested in anything but wallowing in her emotions? 

 No. Because this wasn’t Michelle Jones. This was Michelle Jones after the hellstorm. Who hadn’t Peter Parker affected, as himself or as Spider-Man? Who wasn’t watching from the other side of the world and throwing their Spidey merch to the mercy of flames? Or who still believed the hero could recover from his trauma? Who were the believers? 

 Michelle didn’t know anymore. What did she know? The basic needs for life, what changes her friends had gone through recently, what she was doing at that moment. She just wished she knew what was going through Peter’s head when he pulled whatever shit he pulled. Why she was so angry with him, yet sad for him. What her friends were dealing with. Were they experiencing the same thing? 

 Who knows.

 Not Michelle. 

 Certainly not Peter. 

 Right? 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another short chapter, and sorry it took so long to update. I FINALLY figured out how to do this. And might I say, I’m damned please for what i have in store.
> 
> -TH (TP)

 Peter slowly blinked awake, the feeling of a blanket enveloping him as his vision brightened. His eyes opened and he turned his head, viewing the room around him. His bedroom, with deep blue walls and nerdy posters plastered all over. A messy yet organized pile of books, a small computer in the corner, the stars on his ceiling. Unwashed laundry sitting by the foot of his bed, and on the door, a STOP sign. Whatever that meant. Pictures of him and his friends (unidentifiable, but he assumed it was just from the distance between him and the polaroids) pinned up on cork boards. Pictures… lots of pictures.  
Peter smiled and burrowed deeper into his bed. It wasn’t a bunk bed anymore- he had grown out of that. It blocked his view of the stars on his ceiling.  
He wanted to get up, to greet everyone, to have breakfast and start his day. But for some reason, the comfort of his bed wouldn’t let him. He sighed and looked out the window. Queens. Something was off, but it was still his home.  
Behind him, his door opened. He didn’t turn his head, for somehow he knew who was coming to get him. Just like every other morning on a Saturday… Sunday… what day was it?  
Slow footsteps approaching his bed. A light hand on his shoulder.  
Now, he wanted to look, but he couldn't. Just like he couldn’t get out of bed. The weight shifted on the mattress and he felt a pair of lips press onto his cheek. Who was it??  
Suddenly, his head finally turned past the bright light of the setting sun. He smiled up at the face above him, a hand coming down to his cheek and gently stroking the soft skin.  
“Good Morning Peter.”  
“G’morning mom.”  
She laughed and her hand went up to his curly hair, lightly tangling it in a swift movement. “You’ve slept in. It’s getting late.”  
“Don’t wanna get up yet,” he mumbled.  
She smiled brightly at him, pulling her hand away and taking his own. Their fingers slotted together, and it all felt so right.  
“Where’s dad?”  
“Drinking his coffee.”  
“Will we see Ben and May today?”  
“Sure, love.”  
A beat is silence, basking in the warmth of this moment.  
“Peter, it’s time to get up,” his mother whispered, kissing his cheek again. “Time to get up.”  
“Don’t wanna…” he mumble helplessly, his eyes slipping shut.  
“Peter, baby, you’ve gotta get up.”  
“I… can’t…”  
“Peter… it’s time to get up...  
...Peter…”  
  
He slipped into darkness. The voice echoed in his ears, slowly sounding less and less like his mother.  
  
“Mom?” The boy whispered, sounding scared and alone. “Momma?”

“Peter…”

“Mom…”

“We love you…”

“Peter!!”

A different, deeper voice.

His eyes snapped open.

He was awake.

“H-Harrison?”

* * *

_Before_

Harrison ran down the halls of his father’s mansion, sliding down the railing of the tall staircase to reach the main floor. Who cares if he left while his father was lecturing him on his behavior. Who cares if he was getting reprimanded for sneaking drinks from Norman’s alcohol cabinet. Who cares if before bed for a while, Harrison had been unable to stand without the support of a wall.  
The only thing that mattered was the person on the other need of this call, whose eyes were set on someone else in desperate need of help… more than some useless rich boy with an alcohol problem and daddy issues. The maid he crashed into on the way out, holding two tall glasses of champagne, could be paid extra if she really wanted to. Harrison had to be there. As he ran, he pulled out his phone and called Y/N. It went straight to voicemail. Growling in frustration, he continued to run towards the street MJ had told him she was on.  
It didn’t matter that it was dark out.  
It didn’t matter that the rain was pouring down, only started recently. If it had been raining all afternoon, MJ wouldn’t be out.  
She wouldn’t have found _him_.  
She wouldn’t have called Harrison.  
He wouldn’t be sprinting through the city, nearly getting hit by three taxis and a tour bus.  
But it was important.  
  
MJ had found Peter. That was all that mattered at the moment.  
  
Harrison skidded to a halt in front of the alley, seeing a figure backed up against the wall, a hand against her mouth. MJ. Harrison jogged in, looking down at the other body in front of her.  
Peter sat, sitting in a pool of his own blood, looking still and lifeless. Dark bruises, torn up fabric, a damp backpack. The spider-man suit, crumpled up yet peeking out of the opening.  
Harrison knelt down beside his… friend.  
Who knows how long Peter had been there, blood seeping from his chest and wounds blistering. Bruises darkening and breath laboring… who had done this?!  
Harrison put two fingers to Peter’s neck, feeling for a pulse.  
He winced, moving them slightly.  
A very small, thready, and barely there pulse.  
“M-Mom?” Peter moaned, his lips barely moving. His eyes remained closed, but his brow creased slightly.  
“Peter…” Harrison whispered. “Peter it’s me, you’ve got to wake up…”  
“Momma…”  
“You’ve gotta wake up, please Pete…”

“Mom…”

“Peter!!” MJ gasped out, collapsing beside Harrison.

Suddenly, Peter’s eyes snapped open. His irises flew back and forth as his breathing quickened. Sweat pricked his forehead and he struggled to move.  
“Hey, hey, calm down Peter…” Harrison said softly. “It’s us.”  
“Where’s my mom? Where’s dad? Uncle Ben, Aunt May, my friends… my friends…” he whined, clearly distressed.  
“Peter- Pe-Peter,” Harry tried again, reaching out to put a hand on Peter’s shoulder.  
Peter gave him one last long look.  
“H-Harrison?”

He passed out again. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we go. A chapter for y’all, finally. Hope you enjoy it as the plot slowly progesses... just  
> ONE VERY IMPORTANT NOTE!!  
> Disregard the relationship the reader had with Harrison in Peter Parker: Loser. Might change some stuff, and I really fucking wish I’d just called him Harry?? Like??? What was I thinking??  
> Anyways, enjoy :) <3

Harrison wasn’t sure what to do with the limp body of his best friend/mutant/New York’s teenage vigilante/…whatever else Peter happened to be. He wasn’t sure at this point. But he definitely couldn’t go to the hospital like this… who knows what they would do to him, or what questions they would ask. So, there really only seemed to be one option. Harrison knelt down and carefully took Peter into his arms, nodding towards the bloody and threadbare backpack that rested against the alley wall. As Harrison picked the boy up, he felt a slickness cover his fingers that he assumed to be blood and piss. But that didn’t matter. Peter was here, and in dire need of medical attention.  
The rain pounded on their skin as they made their wait through the city. It was typical… of course it would be raining. A boy with a limp body and a girl with a bloodstained bag, strolling through New York at God knows what time of the night. A ragtag crew if there ever was one.  
On the final turn of their walk, they cane face to face with the Ostercorp building. Harrison grimaced at the sight of it, but there was nothing else they could do. He looked over at MJ, who’s knv lord turned a pale white from gripping the bag in her hands. The blood on that had dried, thank god, but Peter hadn’t stopped bleeding from… everywhere, it seemed, and they needed to hurry. Harrison nodded towards the door, MJ hurrying forwards to pull it open and the two of them slipped inside. She followed close behind as they edged down the hall, hurrying past the lounge where Norman might’ve been sitting.  
Unfortunately, he was indeed sitting there.  
“Harrison?” he called, not looking up from whatever business book he was reading. Harrison froze, frantically looking down at his unconscious friend and over at MJ who was looking more scared by the second.  
“Uh… hi dad.”  
“What are you doing at this time of night?”  
“Uhm…” he glanced at MJ. “I was just getting some ibuprofen.”  
“Hmmm. No one with you?”  
“No sir.”  
“Good night, Harrison.”  
Harrison bit his lip and gestures forward with his head, motioning for MJ to follow him as they continue to the stairwell. Careful not to jostle Peter but being as quick as possible to go up the few floors to the story with Harrison’s room. MJ threw a glance over her shoulder to see if any fluid had dropped into the fancy flooring, relieved to see a clean surface. Harrison pushed the door to his room open and made his way to the bed, MJ pushed aside the duvet, and Peter was placed in the center, his body sinking into the mattress. His chest slowly and softly rose and fell as he took what breaths he could. The sheets around him were slowly staining a light pink, the blood mixing with the rain and urine as Peter’s body settled. MJ put the bag by the door and for a moment, they simply stared at the body. What were students going to do with only bare babysitting CPR training and a handful of first aid classes? Anything to save there friend.  
“There should be some first aid supplies in the bathroom cabinet,” Harrison said quietly. MJ just nodded, clearly holding back tears as she ran to the bathroom, ran back, and shoved the supplies into Harrison’s arms before running out to the hall. He ached to comfort his friend, but Peter was in dire need of medical attention.  
Without a sound, Harrison peeled off the rags of cloth Peter wore that did nothing but cover up fractions of his skin. He was cold to the touch. For the sake of decency, Harrison looked away when he removed Peter’s dampened boxers and swiftly replaced them with a dry pair of his own. The remnants automatically went into the trash.  
As carefully and gently as possible, Harrison began to try to stop the bleeding from everywhere on Peter’s body. It was hard to tell where he wasn’t bleeding. The scrapes on his body had already begun to heal, even if only slightly, thanks to his enhanced healing ability. The burns weren’t healed though, and Harrison could feel Peter’s skin heating up. Strange how one can go from being frigidly cold to burning hot in just a matter of time.  
When it was clear that the materials he was using wasn’t helping stop the bleeding, Harrison wiped his forehead and pulled off his shirt. Without hesitation he cut it up into seperate rags to press at the larger cuts. He used a decent amount of gauze to cover a section of Peter’s head, wherever that wound had come from, and secured the bandage in place with medical tape. Each cloth began to soak up the blood… Harrison wondered how much Peter had left. Miraculously, the wounds stopped bleeding. With great care, he cleaned the body of dirt and grime and whatever else was staining his skin. Antiseptic covered every wound. He wrapped them up with one last roll of gauze and medical tape, making sure Peter was lying in a position where they wouldn’t open up again. He sighed and looked down at the body. There were bandages covering all of his chest, his legs, arms… around his head. His skin was so pale you might wonder if it was the same color white as the wraps. His chest rose and fell a minuscule amount with each breath. When Harrison put the back of his hand to Peter’s forehead, it was burning hot. His leg seemed twisted and swollen in an unnatural way. Harrison could only hope his friend wouldn’t wake up in extreme pain. As one last precaution, Harry laid a thin blanket over Peter’s body.  
Relieved to be finished, he let out a quivering breath. For once, his emotions weren’t masked by the foggy haze of alcohol as tears rapidly slid down his cheeks. His shoulders seemed to wrach endlessly from the force of his sobs. He hadn’t let it out in a very long time, so he found himself stumbling back onto the armchair in the corner of his room and falling asleep, eyes red and stinging from his salty tears.  
Outside of Harrison’s room, MJ bit her lip to try to stop herself from crying any louder and giving herself away to Norman. She would go back in, but she wasn’t sure that she would be able to face seeing Peter like that. Or maybe it was after all he had done. She either didn’t know or didn’t want to admit it. The one thing she did know… she was exhausted. Both physically and mentally just exhausted.  
She held her breath for a moment and listened carefully through the door. Harrison’s feet padded ok the floor, presumably to get some clothes or something for Peter. He sniffed and it was silent.  
MJ leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. Before she knew it, she started to drift away.  
Harrison peeked his head out to check on MJ, finding her succumbed to her tiredness. He quickly retrieved a blanket and pillow from a chest in his room and wrapped it around her shoulders, tucking the pillow behind her head. Maybe he lingered a little too long. And that was when he ended up back in the armchair.

A girl slumped in the hall with her head between her knees, her sobs ending as she drifted into a dream- or maybe it was a nightmare.  
A bare chested boy curled up in an armchair, shivering from all that he had witnessed.  
Their friend, lying on a bed with a thready pulse and scarcely breathing lungs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s this?? Another chapter so soon!! Yeah, I’m getting the story to progress. I think this chapter is a bit longer, and it’s a bit confusing. There are a lot of POV shifts (well not POV but character-centric areas). I’m sorry if it’s too confusing 😂 Anyways, I hope you enjoy and thank you for all the support!  
> -TH/TP

It was the whimpering and mumbling that woke Harrison up. The bones in his back and neck cracked from being cramped up on the tiny armchair he had fallen asleep on… clearly not the best decision. Then again, he hadn’t really decided to doze off there. Either way, it did a number on his back. For a moment he was simply focused on popping out the kink in his back, but then he remembered the sounds that had woken him up. Where had they come from?  
He glanced at an alarm clock. 1 AM. With a groan, he pushed himself up and did one final twist of his body. A loud snapping sound resonated through his body and he breathed a sigh of relief… which was short lived as he remembered who was on his bed who could possibly be the source of the terrified noises. Peter. Harrison quickly looked to the bed- thank god, Peter was still lying there. But there was a pained look on his face. His chest, still bandaged, suddenly puffed up and down real quick. He whined, long and high-pitched. Harry didn’t know what to do: he couldn’t get Peter out of his head.

 

* * *

 

_“May, why does it hurt?”_

  
_“Where are you May? Where did you go? Aunt May?”_

Peter’s eyes opened to a blue sky and sunlight. _Where am I…_  
The wind blew gently through the tall grass around him. He felt like he was in some sort of dramatic movie. But his knee… his knee really hurt. With a grunt, he forced his weightless body upwards and found himself wildly glancing around. Was he always this small?  
_“May!!”_ he suddenly yelled, and his eyes widened. Woah. He hadn’t meant to say that… had he? A shadow came over him. Oh god, who could be here-  
“May?”  
That was his voice.  
_“May, I fell and my knee hurts.”_ That was not his voice. Was it?  
“Oh, Peter…” May said, kneeling down beside him. “What’re you doing here? You shouldn’t be here…”  
“May…” Peter said, and he seemed to return to his normal size. His voice was his own. “Where am I? What’s happened?”  
“I don’t know, baby,” she said, tenderly taking his chin in her hand and inspecting his face. “You don’t look so good.”  
“Wh-“  
May stood and held out her hand. “Can you stand up?”  
Peter couldn’t speak so he merely nodded, taking her hand and forcing himself up. The world whooshed around him like the wind had earlier. He knew this place- May had taken him here when he was much much younger… not long after his parents… well. They died, of course. Then why had that other dream seemed so real? Why did it end when his mom told him to-  
A sound like feedback in his ear. Peter winced and clutched the left side of his face. May’s brow creased with worry. “Why are you here now…”  
“Where am I?” Peter whimpered, his eyes tearing up. “What’s going on with me?”  
“You don’t remember this place? We always used to come here to play…”  
Peter looked around. The tall grass eventually faded into a lush wood: it was clearly springtime as the pink and white flowers spotted the ground around them. To his back was a tall white house with the windows open and curtains fluttering in the breeze. It was in the more rural part of New York- when Uncle Ben was still around.  
_“Peter.”_  
That voice boomed in his head. It wasn’t May’s, it wasn’t his… who’s was it? “Hello?” Peter yelled, grabbing his ears and sinking to his knees. “Hello?!”  
May let out a cry as she caught the boy in her arms. May… she was safe. Peter clung to her and cried, heaving sobs. “What’s happening… what’s happening…”  
“Deep breaths, Peter, deep breaths…”  
_“But my knee still hurts,”_ the childlike voice said again. It was a younger version of Peter… reliving a memory? No. He was here. Peter was here. Why couldn’t he see himself? There was too much going on… too much going on…  
May rocked him back and forth. “It’s okay,” she whispered. She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “Hey. Peter, it’s just me.”  
“B-but… aren’t you…”  
She nodded, tears falling freely. “Yeah, I am,” she said, and gave a small smile.  
“Then… what am I…” Peter’s face greyed with dread. “I- I’m not- I can’t be-“  
May bit her lip. “I don’t know. Maybe you aren’t, I don’t know.”  
“Are mom and dad here? Ben?”  
“No, baby.”  
“May…” Peter whispered. “I miss you so much!” He was sobbing again, and he felt like that little child that had fallen and skimmed his knee here in this very field. Craving attention and love of any sort… any sort…  
“Just close your eyes,” May whispered. “Close your eyes, you have to go back again.”  
“But I don’t want to-“  
“You’re not ready,” she said, closing her eyes and clutching his hair. She breathed deep for a moment. “Listen to me Peter.” Pause. “I’m not exactly sure what you’re going through right now I’m your life. But it seem like a lot, you seem to be weak and struggling with something. It’s okay. It’s part of life. Just don’t leave who you have left behind. Remember-“  
Her voice suddenly warbled, like he was submerged under water. His vision began to fade. “May?” he whispered, frightened. “May…”

 

* * *

 

Harrison gently stroked back Peter’s hair. It was a bit awkward for him, but he knew no other way to comfort someone in this instance. At one point, Peter stilled completely. Harrison’s heart rate accelerated and he panicked for a moment- thirty seconds later, Peter let out a low groan and exhaled. Harrison breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing bad had happened. Peter’s wounds were even beginning to look a little better, no doubt in thanks to his spider-properties. Harrison sighed and looked out the window. It was still cold, still grey. Miserable, almost. He ran a hand through his hair and stood, going out to get something to drink. In the hall, MJ had curled up into a ball with the blanket, which clearly wasn’t enough in this weather. She was shaking slightly, and like Peter, had a look of unease. Her dark brown hair was in knots, hanging over the jean jacket she was wearing. Harrison hesitated before bending down and picking the girl up in his arms, and he would be lying if he said his heart didn’t warm a bit at the sight of her burrowing deeper into the blanket in his arms. He proceeded to carry her through his room into the connecting lounge. Careful not to disturb her sleep, he placed her on the pull out couch and grabbed some extra blankets to wrap her up in. She seemed to calm down even just a bit at that as she continued to sleep, which Harrison knew she needed.  
Only then was he able to get that drink of water.

 

* * *

 

“Tony, it’s been weeks… maybe months even, we’ve lost track of time and we have more things to worry about now,” Natasha said, her arms crossed. “We need to accept the fact that… and I know you really don’t want to, but Peter is probably dead.”  
Tony’s hand clenched into a fist and he let out a deep breath. “He’s not dead,” he said quietly. “He can’t be. Not yet.”  
“Not even FRIDAY can find him, and you know how good FRIDAY is at finding people.”  
Tony hung his head. “I know. But I won’t give up.”  
“We don’t know what’s happening, or what’s going to happen. But it’s happening soon and we need to do something about it,” Nat said, pacing back and forth.  
“We have _time_ ,” Tony said, straightening his back. “I’m not doing anything without the kid. Look, Nat- I know he’s alive out there somewhere. He’s strong, and I know he’s only a teenager, but he’s got a good heart. That matters, a good heart, among other things. He’s not like me when I was his age. Sure, he’s smart, but he doesn’t have a father to look up to and then his Aunt died… he had already been looking up to me. I never thought I would be someone to look up to. I’ve got to find him. For May. I won’t be like my father.”  
Nat stopped moving and stared at Tony. She had an unreadable expression on her face. “Fine. But I don’t know what else you’re gonna be able to do.”  
“I will fucking find a way,” the billionaire genius whispered. “I will.”  
With that, he stood and stalked off to his laboratory. Sure, he’d been successfully alcohol free… but he sure as hell hadn’t been sleeping the nights away. Every little problem seemed to nag at him. Everything was something that he needed to take care of, and if he didn’t… the wounds would fester and scar. No one would benefit from nothing. So he needed to do something, if not everything. And the only thing he had was the name of the supposed villain Peter had encountered. _Venom_. An alien of sorts. No more was known. He was impossible to track.  
But Tony knew he was running out of options. Running out of time. Maybe he had a sliver of hope, or maybe he just really didn’t want to accept the fact that Peter was probably dead in an alley somewhere. He shook the thought from his head. He needed to focus.  
What was there to focus on?

* * *

 

Harry and MJ slept through the rainy day. When Harrison woke up, it was dark again. Around eight o’clock. He wondered how his father hadn’t suspected something and come to check on him and beaten the shit out of him for having a kid unconscious on his bed and a girl on the pull out couch. But then again, Norman didn’t really care for him. He probably thought Harrison was hungover.  
But after finding Peter, Harrison had made a silent vow not to touch a drop of alcohol until he was of age. And even then, he would not drink it excessively. He knew what it did to people. Especially himself. That couldn’t happen again.  
He forced himself out of the armchair again. He really needed to find something else to sleep on, or he might wake up and not be able to unfurl from whatever position he moved into overnight. So he dig through his closet until he found a blowup mattress. As much as he didn’t want to wake MJ up, he really didn’t want to have to spend another night in that chair. So he plugged the mattress in and it hummed as it slowly filled up with air. As he waited, MJ’s eyes fluttered open. She shifted her head to peek through the doorway into Harrison’s room, where he was working on the mattress.  
_“How long have I been asleep?”_ she wondered, swinging her feet out of the bed. _“How did I get in this bed, even…”_  
Running a hand through her messy hair, she made her way out of the lounge and into Harry’s room. He looked up at her in slight surprise.  
“Oh, hey MJ. Sorry if I woke you up.”  
“No, it’s fine. I think I’ve slept enough, I’m actually a bit hungry…”  
Harry’s eyes widened. “Shit, I’m sorry, I was just gonna let you sleep and I forgot that you haven’t eaten anything and you probably want to cha-“  
“Shush,” she said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “My parents won't care that I’m gone. They hardly ever see my anyways. But… some food and fresh clothes would be nice. And a shower…”  
Harrison nodded, pointing to the doorway to the private bathroom. “You uh, you can use that one. I can give you some of my clothes…?”  
MJ nodded hurriedly. “That’d be great.”  
Harrison went to his dresser, pulling open a few drawers and grabbing a t-shirt, a hoodie, a pair of boxers, and some sweatpants.  
“Just uh… use what you need,” he said, handing everything to her.  
“Y-yeah. Thanks Harrison.”  
He gave a quick smile and nodded before she went of into the bathroom. Harrison ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh, turning to quickly grab some food from the kitchen on the first floor. He didn’t want to leave Peter alone for too long, in case he woke up or something happened and his health started to decrease rapidly. As he passed the second floor, he stopped to see if Norman was asleep, which he was. That gave Harrison a chance to at least find some decent food and bring it upstairs without a problem.  
Meanwhile, MJ was trying to figure out how to turn on the shower. It was unlike any other shower she had seen- very fancy and obviously high quality. She guessed that this was what she liked about Harrison. He knew he had all these nice and fancy things, but he sure as hell didn’t act like it. He didn’t look down on everyone else like his father did. The shower finally spurted to life, allowing MJ to shed herself of her older clothes and step under the warm spray of water. She let it cascade down her face and onto her back, letting all the dirt, grime, and worry of the past few days wash away. She could be alone with her thoughts for a while.  
With a twist of the faucet knob, the shower turned off and MJ quickly wrapped herself in one of the towels she found under the sink. It was softer than any other towel she’d used and smelled fresh. Like the Osterfield’s bought new towels every week. But there was a separate pile that seemed less extravagant, and out of curiosity, MJ brought one to her nose and sniffed. They smelled like Harrison. Harrison, who preferred not to broadcast his wealth. She wondered how he convinced whoever cleaned the floor to not throw them away or wash them with the expensive product they used. Quickly drying her hair, she changed into the clothes Harrison had given her, keeping the hoodie wrapped around her waist. They were a bit big on her, but it was better than her older clothes, which she folded up and carried out into Harrison’s room.  
The boy himself was nowhere to be seen, and Peter was still resting in Harrison’s bed. His eyes, though closed, seemed sunken in and darker than the paleness of the rest of his visible body. Harrison had clearly just cleaned him up. MJ put all the clothes on the corner of the pull out bed and tidied up the sheets and blanket. When she turned around, Harrison was standing in the doorway with a platter of what looked like homemade pizza in hand. It was awkwardly silent for a moment.  
“Did I really shower that long?” MJ blurted out, her cheeks flushing a slight pink. “I didn’t mean to use it that long-“  
“Don’t worry,” Harrison quickly assured her. “Y-you look good.”  
MJ smirked. “In your clothes?”  
It was Harrison’s turn to blush. “Just- you look comfortable and more relaxed than before. I’m glad a shower helped.”  
The two of them sat on the floor by Harrison’s bed and ate the pizza. And all was silent.

 

* * *

 

 _Mister Stark?_  
  
“What is it?”

_We’ve been able to locate Mister Peter Benjamin Parker._

“...”

“Well, where is he then?”  
  
_He’s in critical condition at OSCORP. Mister Parker’s friends brought him there and applied their skills in first aid._

“Take me there tomorrow.”

_Of course sir._


	5. Oops

Hey everyone...  
I owe an apology for not posting since 2018. Happy New Year?? I’m so sorry for those of you who have beenn enjoying this story and haven’t had any content bc of my lazy ass!! Actually, I’m not lazy. I’m busy and I have exams coming up 😔 which sucks because I really want to write some more Peter Parker works (including this one!!). I will make time st the start of a new semester, I swear.   
Thank you for sticking around. Love you ❤️  
-TP/Th


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